


Adventures of a depressed tween and her adoptive son

by treesappy175



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: AJ is a sweet lil bab, First Steps, Grief, I might make this more of a series?? idk, Something soothing, childhood development, clem is a such a proud big sis, reference to trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 17:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesappy175/pseuds/treesappy175
Summary: Based off the Wellington ending. This is sometime before meeting up with the New Frontier. I think about how Clem managed to care for a child whilst being a child in the apocalypse, like, A LOT.





	Adventures of a depressed tween and her adoptive son

The leaves are painstakingly loud as I run along them, panting heavily, but that doesn't matter right now. The rain grows louder as it taps against the raincoat draped over AJ's small figure that's curled up against my back, who yelps every time thunder rings throughout the sky. Anxiety bubbles in my stomach at the thought of him getting a cold. In a fair world, a cold wouldn't be a big issue. I'd just have to give him some medicine, let him rest and have him drink plenty of water. The biggest issue I'd come across is making AJ take his medicine if he doesn't like how it tastes. 

In this world, though, there is no medicine gentle enough for a baby's cold, and he wouldn't be able to rest because I'd have to drag him outside and look for water clean enough to drink. It's an impossible situation that I'd do anything to avoid. 

Luckily, it doesn't seem like I'll have to do much. A vintage caravan covered in leaves and moss comes into view, with a ray of sunshine comically shining down upon it. I bolt right towards it. With an extra hard tug on the handle, the door flies open and I rush inside, clutching the raincoat's sleeves I quickly tied around my neck to ensure AJ stayed dry. The sudden loss of sound slightly disorientates me; the rain is significantly muffled as it pours upon roof of the caravan, alongside the thunder and leaves whistling in the wind. Closing the door, I take a deep breath before looking around. 

It's dark inside the caravan, with navy blue curtains rusted into place. Navy blue covers the small sofa seats and tiny dining table, alongside the kitchen drawers and the quilt that covers a single-person sized bed. The walls, built-in stove and sink are lined with beige, alongside peach cushions that rest on the bed. However, still affected by age, mold grows along the window sills, and everything has a layer of dust on it, which evokes bother relief and fear within me. Relief, because that means this place has been unused for a long while. It's highly unlikely that whoever has made themselves at home here is going to come barging in. And fear, because the dust and mold is yet another thing that could cause AJ to become sick. Though, AJ has been exposed to surroundings like this ever since he was born, so it's possible his little body has built up a resistance to such elements. Still, the less exposure the better; I'm not taking any chances when it comes to AJ's health. 

"This should be safe for now..." I say aloud, mostly to myself, but to also encourage as much speech as I can to AJ, who has yet to say a word. He lets out a small coo in response as I slip the raincoat off him and let it fall on the counter. I sit on the edge of the bed, and slide the bag straps off me so AJ gently falls on the bed. This baby carrier is a God-given gift; nine months of using it and it's still sturdy and shows no signs of falling apart. The large pocket on the back of it has also been extremely useful for carrying supplies without causing strain to AJ's back. I stretch out the strain in my own back and shoulders, blowing out are through pursed lips. AJ wiggles and slips himself out of the baby carrier, patting his little hands on the soft quilt. Dust flies in the air, and he squints his eyes as I quickly try to fly it away with my hands. 

"Silly, you'll get yourself sick!" I lightly scold him, but he appears unaffected as he reaches for a small peach cushion and chews on the corner of it. I suppose he can't help it, as he's been 'teething' nowadays, which is a term I'm glad I got to learn about. Back at Wellington, Edith was always very chipper to go on and on about children's development, getting very specific about the usual times a stage of development begins and ends and what to do about it. I never found the courage to enquire whether or not Edith ever had kids or wanted children, but it was clear enough that she had a passion and love for them. A bittersweet feeling tugs at my chest at her memory, but I ignore it and snatch the cushion away from AJ, patting the dust away before returning it to his grabby hands. Once he has a hold of it again, he lets himself fall back on the bed and chews on the pillow, content. I let my eyes rest on him for a bit, allowing warmth to spread through my chest, washing away the earlier grief and the current long list of worries. We were running through the rain for about twenty minutes at most, and I was really worried that would be enough to have him fall ill. Seeing him like this, however, eases my mind. He's happy, healthy and dry; for now. 

But that does not mean I can rest just yet. It's still morning, and while there's still some good fruit in the pocket of the baby carrier AJ and I can eat for lunch, I'll need to find something else for the afternoon. My eyes rest on the cupboards adjacent to the kitchen counter. Hesitantly, I leave AJ on the small bed and walk over to the cupboards. Opening the right cupboard, I'm slightly disappointed to just find dusty glass cups and mugs. I reach out the left cupboard, glancing back to see that AJ still hasn't moved from his spot on the bed, chewing happily on the cushion. The left cupboard has two boxes of expired cereal and, to my delight, two still-good cans of peaches. AJ has come to love fruit, much like I do, so this find was especially delightful. I feel a smile tug the corners of my mouth when a small  _thump_  hits the floor. 

My head whips around and I'm already rushing over to AJ when I see that he just threw the peach cushion the floor, and he's resting on his stomach happily on the bed. His head pops up at my exasperated sigh like a small dog, peering at me with curious eyes the size of teacups. I kneel down to pick up the cushion, my head level with his, when I notice extra navy blue drawers alongside the bed's frame. I waste no time pulling them out while AJ gazes at me with an almost sleepy inquisitiveness. The three small drawers on the right-hand side are mostly full of men's underwear, which wouldn't be useful to either of us anytime soon, and the bottom drawer was quickly slammed shut after finding a box of expired condoms. I hesitantly check the three left-hand drawers, glancing up to see AJ has now rolled onto his back and is blowing spit bubbles. The top left-hand drawer is full of socks, which  _would_  be useful as makeshift bandages if they weren't obviously used by someone with foot fungus and an allergy to doing laundry. The second drawer is full of coffee-table books with no useful information, and one comic book. I debate taking it with me, perhaps to have AJ play with, or even just for myself, but decided the room the baby carrier's pocket should be saved for something more important. It didn't look too interesting, anyway. Finally, I pull the last drawer on the bottom left-hand side open, and find myself surprised. 

The was a collection of small children's toys in the drawer. two incomplete rubix cubes, a couple of spinning tops and a small bottle of bubble mixture all laying on top of a completed Ninja Turtles puzzle. I stared at all of it, slightly stunned to see toys in such good condition in today’s world. Eventually, a seed of concern started growing inside my head; why did the supposed grown man who owned this caravan have a collection of children's toys? Not to mention, so close to the drawer full of condoms... I force that thought out of my head as quickly as it came. There are a million of explanations for this find, and I could jump on several different trails of thought stringing together all of the possibilities; none of it would matter, anyway. This caravan hasn't been used in months at least, so there's no point worrying about  _that_  kind of danger. I glance back up at AJ, who has rolled back onto his stomach again, and he meets my gaze for a few moments. My memory of his parents may have become a bit blurry over time, but in his warm brown eyes I see his mother. I let a smile stretch across my lips. 

"Hey goofball, you have got to check this out" I say, reaching down towards to tiny bottle of bubble mixture. As far as I'm aware, AJ has never seen bubbles before, the closest example being bubbles frothing out of a pot of boiling water. These bubbles would be prettier and safer to explore, though. I scooch over to the side so I can plop AJ down beside me, and twist open the lid of the bottle. I have AJ's full attention as I take a moment to smell the scent of soap that wafts out of the bottle, before sticking the bubble wand inside the glossy liquid and swirling it around. Excess mixture slides off the edge of the wand as I carefully purse my lips and blow out one large, wobbly bubble. It retains its sphere structure as it floats in the air, a messy rainbow of colour reflecting off the shiny surface. AJ's eyes widen with wonder as he lets out an excited coo, reaching a tiny hand up to the bubble that floats away from him. I take the wand that's still covered in a thin layer of mixture and reattach it to the bubble floating in the air, before carefully pulling it downwards to AJ's reach. The distorted reflection of his captivated face wobbles along the surface of the bubble as AJ carefully reaches out to poke it. 

The feeling that spread throughout me when AJ erupted into babbling giggles when the bubble popped didn't seem to have any words that could properly capture. Sweet melodies and images of sunflowers, blue cotton candy and bumble bees were popping up in my head in a sweet haze, and I felt overcome with the need to chase after this sensation. I stuck the bubble wand back into the bottle and directed my blow away from his face and the bed near us; so he wouldn't get soap in his eyes and could watch how far the bubbles could travel. Dozens of small, delicate bubbles floated away, causing AJ to almost squeal in delight. His short legs wriggled about, clumsily dancing about on the dusty flooring. I stifle a chuckle at his admittedly adorable antics, sticking the wand back in before even half of the bubbles have popped against the roof and furniture. 

Something strange happens when I blow out the next batch of bubbles, though. A few of the small bubbles clump and stick together, creating the appearance of a curvy raw diamond floating lightly throughout the dusty caravan. AJ's eyes locked on this figure, complete awe striking his soft and unscarred face. He lurches himself forwards, placing his small hands flatly on the ground between his outstretched legs, which shift around until his little sneakers are firmly sat beneath him. I sit, quiet and anxious to watch AJ stand up on his own but determined to not help him. Being carried around all of the time means that AJ has also been slow to walking, and hasn't done so ever. He's only ever stood up whilst his hands are firmly wrapped around a small handful of my fingers, wobbling his hips about as if he's unsure where they must rest. Now, though, with only a small cluster of bubbles floating around this dusty caravan, he eyes and movements are full of certainty and determination. My hand grips the handle of the bubble wand tight enough for my knuckles to turn white and give my hand a slight tremor, and I quickly stick it back into the bottle once more.  

This flood of bubbles whizzing past his head and floating towards the tiny dining table gives AJ the burst of motivation he needs to finally stand up, arms spread and hips wobbling in a slight balancing act. Anxiety spikes in my chest as I try my hardest to ignore the urge to help him; Edith's voice telling me to let AJ try and fail, as it is most important for his development, repeats in my mind. Sure enough, AJ manages to shuffle his feet and rest his hips into a sturdier stance, his eyes stay locked on the few dozen bubbles off in the distance. His denim overalls crease at the knees as he lifts one awkward little shoe in the air, arms spread wide for balance. He appeared to have overestimated how high he needed to lift his leg, causing more wobbling before placing his foot back where it was. I blow a small cluster of bubbles again; my harsh breath unable to give him more. He tries again with his other foot, appearing to understand how he needs to move now by leaning forward as he does so.

And so goes AJ’s first step he’s ever taken, which all too quickly turns into his second step, then his third and fourth and fifth until he’s stumbling towards the bubbles that continue to float up. My breath catches in my throat, causing a strange high-pitched noise as a sweet piano melody plays in my head. His tiny hands raise up and grab at thin air as the bubbles float too far away from him, snapping me back into action. Stick the wand back in, I start playing about with the bubbles and AJ’s newfound ability, making him waddle and stumble about gleefully as he chases the colourful, glossy bubbles.

Hours pass by unnoticeably, as well as the rain. AJ and I play with the other toys as if the outside world didn’t exist, entirely uninterrupted, unadulterated joy bouncing off the walls of the tiny, dusty caravan. A certain kind of softness awakens inside me, delighting me with the knowledge that it never died; it was just asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It literally took me months to actually *finish* this. My writing process is actually broken I stg.   
> I want to write more about this crazy concept, though. I really don't think it was expanded on enough in the game, or even talked about.   
> Clementine raised a c h i l d in the apocalypse from ages 11-ish to 13. That's!! Insane!!


End file.
